Party By Myself
by Flanna
Summary: Andrew celebrates his birthday. (AndrewWarren)


Title: Party By Myself  
  
Author: Flannery  
  
Pairing: Warren/Andrew  
  
Rating: R  
  
Disclaimer: Not my boys (or girls). Joss is, without permission, letting me play with them. You know that.   
  
Dedication: Happy birthday, Anna! As one of only two journal users with "beating paul mccartney up" listed as an interest, you deserved a happy birthday. I say deserved, of course, because this is an entire week late. Feel free to kick me. In the head. Nine times. :)  
  
* * *  
  
The party was in its death throes, and streamers hung limp from the doorway. A few balloons had miraculously made it through the celebration in their inflated state. Its three participants were gathered around a low coffee table -- one seated on the beige carpet and another sprawled on the sofa with the birthday boy on his lap. Each wore a small cone-shaped party hat, except for Andrew, who wore a shimmering birthday tiara.  
  
Warren licked a smudge of icing from the corner of Andrew's mouth. "Happy birthday, babe."  
  
"Yes," agreed Jonathan. "The happiest!"   
  
Andrew took a deep breath and smiled. He beamed at Jonathan. "I didn't think you'd make it."  
  
"Of course I made it." Jonathan frowned, seeming almost offended at the suggestion he'd be anywhere else. "I'd never miss my best friend's birthday."  
  
"Yeah. Couldn't miss it." Warren nuzzled his face against Andrew's hair. Andrew felt him smile, felt Warren's warm arms tighten around his waist. "We both wanted to be here for you," he told Andrew, punctuating the statement with a kiss atop his head.  
  
Candles on the cake smouldered into smoke and outside, a bright and beautiful full moon had risen. Something vague nagged at Andrew from the depths of his mind, and he creased his brow in thought. From far away he channeled what was troubling him: "I was so lonely," he said quietly. "I had a cake, and... and nobody came..."  
  
Then Warren's hands cupped the sides of Andrew's face and he found himself drawn into a bone-melting kiss. Negative feelings lingering in his mind dissolved. "Don't think about that," Warren said. He gently slid the tiara off and combed his fingers through Andrew's hair, then kissed him again. "That isn't what's happening."  
  
"Ahem."  
  
The pair parted reluctantly and looked up. Jonathan was standing next to them, holding a shiny black box. He smiled and said, "I hope you like the present I got you. It took me, like, forever to pick it out, and I had it gift-wrapped."  
  
"It looks very nice, Jonathan." Warren took the box from him and placed it on Andrew's lap.   
  
"Open it!" Jonathan encouraged.  
  
Andrew pulled on the silver ribbon tied around the box and it opened easily, like yarn unraveling. Inside was a small phial of liquid, clear but with a faint peach-colored glow that lit the dark space inside the box like a candle. Mesmerized, Andrew lifted it upward. "It's perfect," he breathed.  
  
* * *  
  
Willow pressed the small container into Andrew's hand and wrapped his limp fingers around it. His head lolled on his shoulder as he slept and he exhaled soft puffs of air -- the very image of peaceful slumber.  
  
Whispering, she instructed, "Chant, Dawn."   
  
Dawn did as she was told. The language was something unrecognizable and she had no idea what she was saying, but she trusted Willow to guide her right.  
  
"I knew you'd love it," Jonathan was telling Andrew, deep in his dream. "It tastes like sugar water. Drink it all..."  
  
Willow guided Andrew's hand to his mouth. He swallowed the liquid in one gulp.  
  
* * *  
  
Warren pressed his lips to Andrew's ear, and Andrew squirmed as he whispered warm, moist words: "You'll get your present from me later."  
  
"Ooh." Andrew felt his cheeks go red. "I want it now!" The very air was pressuring Andrew that this couldn't last forever. As wonderful as seeing Jonathan was, Andrew was aching to lie warm and secure against Warren's chest before time ran out and the world dissolved.  
  
He slid off Warren's lap, then pulled the other man up from the sofa. "You'll love the bedroom," Warren mentioned as they wandered hand-in-hand into the hallway. "It has a canopy bed, and that glow-in-the-dark Star Wars comforter you had when you were six."  
  
It was a short walk to the end of the hallway. Faintly, he wondered what Jonathan would do while they were gone, but the though didn't concern him. He was in awe as he entered the room; it was everything Warren had said and more. Andrew recognized long-lost stuffed animals and posters he'd last seen hung on the wall of the lair. The sweater his aunt had knitted him as a child hung from a hook on the wall. And he'd always wanted a canopy bed! Tonight he'd draw the curtains around the bed and tie them with pretty satin ribbons -- it was all very romantic, like an old movie.  
  
Fingers brushed hair back from his forehead. As the moon lit the bedroom, Warren told him, "I love you."  
  
And it didn't sound the way Warren had ever said it before -- not said as a means to an end, but said because they were holding each other and kissing languidly, stumbling slowly and blindly as they backed toward the bed. Warren said it as if it was a bubble of emotion bursting in his mouth.  
  
They collapsed to the bed. "I don't want to sleep at all tonight," Andrew sighed as they snuggled together.   
  
Warren's grin cut through the dark. "I'm not gonna let you sleep," he said, his voice low and shiver-inducing.  
  
That tone made Andrew feel all light-headed. He relaxed into the soft down pillows and exhaled against Warren's mouth as they kissed again. Andrew wriggled in place when his shirt was pulled up and over his head.   
  
Warren leaned above him, dark eyes gazing downward. He smiled lovingly, and Andrew's insides took on the consistency of oatmeal. "Happy birthday," Warren breathed.  
  
And it was.  
  
* * *  
  
"How long will this last?" Dawn asked. She held an ebony box, now containing the empty phial Willow earlier used in the spell.  
  
Willow stared down at Andrew. He inhaled, his eyelids twitched, he exhaled, rolled over. "All weekend. He should wake sometime Monday or Tuesday, I think. Probably really thirsty, but, uh, well-rested. As one would expect."  
  
Andrew gave a soft but not unhappy whimper.  
  
Willow frowned. "Poor guy. I didn't even know it was his birthday."  
  
"He'll just sleep?"  
  
"He'll just sleep," confirmed Willow, "and he'll dream."  
  
"I felt so bad for him," said Dawn, frowning. "He had this cupcake, and just kept staring at it. I offered to take him out for frappuccinos, but he said he'd rather be alone."  
  
Willow relieved Dawn of the heavy box and started toward the door. "Don't worry, Dawnie. He won't be alone."  
  
* * * 


End file.
